


Home Sweet Home

by Avistella



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Gender-neutral Reader, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-12
Updated: 2018-05-12
Packaged: 2019-05-05 16:59:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14623146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avistella/pseuds/Avistella
Summary: You don't want to go back home.





	Home Sweet Home

When the war between Askr and Embla finally ends, you, along with the rest of the Heroes, will go back home to your own worlds. The realization hits you hard in the dead of night when you're lying down in bed, and suddenly, you don't feel like sleeping anymore. Wrapping yourself up in your blanket, your thoughts start to pick up speed from that single spark alone.

_Home_. You will have to go back home. You will have to go back to that home that you hate so much. Back to those people you would rather forget. You will have to go back to that lonely and pitiful life where all you wanted to do was die and be free from those struggles you were facing.

With a sharp inhale of breath, you turn to lie on your side and ignore the stinging sensation in your eyes. _You don't want to go home_. Maybe Alfonse was right. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten so attached to everyone here, but it wasn't like you _wanted_ to get attached. It just sort of... _happened_. After all, everybody was kind to you and cared for you. It was the first time in a long while since you felt any sense of happiness and given full compassion. How could you not grow attached after everything you've been through?

But...that's _only if the war ends_. You realize that you're entering a dangerous train of thought, but you can't stop now. Biting down on your lip, you wonder if it would be okay to somehow prolong the war. With the Heroes you have in your company, you have complete faith in them winning, so perhaps you could try arranging the units around so that Askr can hold back Embla but still not claim total victory in the end.

You understand that such an idea is selfish and wrong, but what else could you do? It wasn't your fault. Nobody can blame you for this. If only Anna hadn't summoned you that fateful day. If only Sharena and the others hadn't befriended you so quickly and so easily. If only Alfonse didn't trust you. If only Alfonse took his advice to heart and maintained his distance from you. If only Alfonse didn't smile at you like how he does. If only Alfonse didn't laugh together with you. 

If only...

If only you...

_If only you hadn't fallen in love with Alfonse._

* * *

Your heart is beating frantically against your chest as you watch the healers work their magic on the heavily injured pegasus knights. You knew from the scouts who checked on the enemy's formation that they had archers, so you _knew_ that you shouldn't have brought a team of fliers. If you had omitted fliers on the team and stayed with your usual formation for enemy archers, you could have easily gained victory.

But what hurts the most is that nobody blames you. Even those who are gritting their teeth through the pain are able to muster up a smile in your direction, a reassurance that what it wasn't your fault. But that's wrong. It _is_ your fault, and you don't deserve their forgiveness. Their kindness. Not when you're being greedy and practically using these heroes for your own benefit.

It makes you sick, your stomach twisting and turning into unbearable knots that you just want to throw up. Disgusted with yourself at the bloody sight in front of you that was, in truth, your responsibility, you sharply turn around and run out of the room. People call out to you, surprised and confused for your sudden strange behaviour, but you ignore their voices.

Pressing your palm against your mouth, you stifle the guilty sobs that wrack throughout your body as your legs carry you to a more secluded area. You don't want to see anybody right now lest they realize the horrible truth of your intentions with the ongoing war. If somebody finds out that you're purposefully trying to lose these battles, then they will undoubtedly feel betrayed. Perhaps they'll learn to distrust you. Perhaps they'll start to think lowly of you and want nothing to do with you.

_Oh gods, what would Alfonse think?_

With that final thought, you trip on your own feet and pitifully tumble down to the ground. With outstretched hands, you attempt to break your fall, and in turn, your palms and knees become scraped against rough stone. Peering around at your surroundings, you realize that you're in the summoning area. Did you really manage to blindly run all the way here?

Slowly, your lips twist into a wry smile. In a sense, this is where everything started, isn't it? Because of your strange affinity with the Breidablik, the Order of Heroes took you in. And since then, you've been summoning Heroes in this spot, making yourself useful. In this place, so full of fond memories of meetings and reunions, you have never felt so alone.

No longer able to hold yourself back, you scream your lungs out. It's an ugly and pitiful sound that pierces through the sky, and _it hurts so much_ , but you continue to scream and cry. Your throat becomes rough, and you can't even support your weight anymore, bending forward so that your forehead meets the ground. Your wails and sobs are the only things that you can hear.

It feels like you're breaking apart, almost like somebody has taken your heart into their hands and is squeezing it with immense strength. Everything hurts, and you just want everything to end already. Just end this war. Just end this suffering. Just end—

You feel something warm against your shoulder, bringing you back to the present, but your body refuses to cooperate with you. Someone gently guides you back to a kneeling position, and even with your hazy vision, you know who it is. Alfonse remains quiet as he tries to carefully choose his words. His fingers gingerly brush away the stray tears staining your cheeks, and he tries to bring up a reassuring smile.

"It's my fault..." you confess, the guilt eating away at you.

Blue eyes widen by a fraction before the prince shakes his head in a firm and determined manner. "It wasn't your fault."

" _But it is!!_ " you insist furiously, trying to push the young man away from you. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be consoled for your actions. "It's my fault we lost because _I purposefully ordered everyone to move in a way that we would lose_! It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault!"

Alfonse takes a sharp inhale of breath, brows furrowing together as he can't seem to understand why you would do such a thing. Were you perhaps tired of the Order of Heroes? Did you perhaps enjoy watching Heroes suffer? _No, it can't be._ You have always been kind to everyone, spending time with each and every one of them. You fussed over their health and injuries, even going as far as to weep for them whenever a Hero falls in battle despite knowing that they can be brought back.

"Why?" Alfonse genuinely can't think of any reason for your decision today.

"Because if we win this war, you'll send me back home. I'd no longer be useful to you, so you'll throw me away like everyone else."

The young prince falls dead silent. He tries to say something but can't find an appropriate response. The air between you two is uncomfortable and suffocating, and you want to run away, but you can't. Askr has been the best place you've ever been in and the only place you can feel welcome in, and even though you're lost and confused with your emotions, you know for a fact that you don't want to leave such a beautiful place.

Before you can even think twice about it, you beg to the Askran prince, "When this war is over, please, don't send me home."

Your voice cracks near the end, and Alfonse has never seen you look so weak before. The expression that you're wearing sends a painful stab to his heart, your eyes red and glossy and face unbelievably flushed. Alfonse instinctively reaches out towards you and pulls you in for an embrace. He isn't certain what he's doing, acting merely on feelings alone and wanting nothing more than to cheer you up.

He hears a choked sob drawn out from your throat, and he holds you tighter, cradling the back of your head as he pulls your face close to his chest, his eyes staring off into the distance, eyebrows stitched together. His lip quivers as he himself struggles with holding back his own emotions, and he lets out a shaky breath.

"You're already home," Alfonse tells you, his voice wavering despite his attempt to keep it even. "Askr is your home, and you don't have to leave if you don't want to."

The prince understands that what he's saying is a tad bit irresponsible. There are many things that need to be considered if you were to stay in Askr like your accommodation and the like, but he'll think of those at a later time. Right now, more than anything, Alfonse just wants to relieve the heavy burden in your heart.

Your eyes widen at his words, and you feel your chest swell with a flurry of emotions: relief, joy, anxiety, trust... They all mix and clash with each other within you, and they overflow in the form of fresh tears. You can't bring yourself to speak coherently, so you hold on to Alfonse even more and cry even more against him as the young prince soothingly runs his fingers through your hair, giving you time to let everything out.

There's nothing to be afraid of anymore because you're home now.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit [my Tumblr](http://avistella.tumblr.com/) for more of my works


End file.
